Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
by EternalCorruption
Summary: Post HBP. Wizard's Wedding, the search for the remaining Horcruxes and the imminent final battle with Voldemort, all in the final year of Harry Potter.
1. Out of Thin Air

  
**A/N:** I've had such an emotional reaction to Half-Blood Prince that I've felt the need to start a "next installment" for Harry Potter.  
Please forgive any grammatical/spelling errors as I no longer have Microsoft Word and am stuck using that wonderful creation, WordPad.  
Enjoy.

**Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor**   
"Out of Thin Air"

Summer came all too fast in Harry's mind. The school year previous had raced by and though not everything that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been entirely welcome (Harry was still particularly upset), there was some inkling of happiness in Harry that the school year was over. Almost each and every thing that could've gone wrong in that one year alone had happened, albiet not until the end of the term. 

There was still some evil sense of unease in Harry's body. Of course, that was to be expected. Voldemort was definately back. His Death Eaters were out and running about and there was havok in the streets. Headlines of death and destruction frequented the front page of both the Daily Prophet and the muggle newspapers that Harry saw and each day, he made an effort to skim through the pages to find if anybody else he knew's life had been claimed by the Dark Lord or one of his followers. So far, Harry thought with ease, nobody was dead. 

Dumbledore was dead. 

The realization of Dumbledore's death was all too hard a concept for Harry to grasp. He'd loved the old, magnificent Wizard more than words could say - he was like a Father, or rather, a Grandfather to Harry and that kind of love was strange and new to Harry. There'd been Sirius, who was the closest thing to a Father that Harry had ever known, but he'd been taken away by Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius had slipped behind the veil and he was not ever going to come back. Dumbledore had been killed by Severus Snape. _Professor_ Severus Snape. The thought made Harry sick and shake with rage. 

The Dursley's of Number Four, Privet Drive were exceptionally edgy around Harry. They knew that the strange, unexplainable deaths that spread across the front page of their newspapers and were headlined on thier nightly news were results of magic. Their unease was shared with the rest of the prim and proper people on Privet Drive. There was hardly a person outside at night. The streets were deserted at dark, parks were left long before sunset, and Harry wasn't allowed to leave the house. 

He didn't want to go outside, anyway. The spell that protected him from Voldemort was still in effect at Number Four and Harry had promised to Dumbledore that he would stay there until the spell was over. In just a day, Harry would be turning 17 and the spell would be finished, complete, then Harry would go out on his own and finish what he'd began with Dumbledore in his Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry. 

If it were possible, the Dursley's seemed more excited to see Harry go than Harry was of leaving his prison of 16 years. 

Harry lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with unbreakable concentration. He was planning what he was going to do when he left. The trunk at the end of his bed was packed, his room was clean, and he was ready to leave at the first moment he could. His Firebolt rested against the trunk and on top of the trunk lay his invisibility cloak. He was going to hitch his trunk to the bottom of his broom, wear the invisibility cloak and fly to the Burrow. To his knowledge, a few Aurors were going to accompany him - not from orders, but because of their own want. There were a few watching Privet Drive as he lay there, in a somewhat dream-like state. 

The fake Horcrux was in his hand. He sqeezed it painfully in his hand. The skin on his hand had already been punctured from the sharp edges of the locket. The pain was his way of keeping what had happened fresh in his mind, what he needed to do plain and unmistakable as his imminent freedom from Privet Drive. The note he had found inside the Horcrux was put back into the locket. Harry had no intention to read it again until he came closer and closer to his goal of destroying Voldemort. Before he came to fight the most powerful evil Wizard there ever was, he needed to know if the Horcrux with the fragment of Voldemort's soul had been destroyed or not. Harry didn't care if the time came and he died in duel with Voldemort, but he wanted to know for sure that he'd killed his enemy and hadn't left one more piece of him for his friends to destroy. 

_Better to get it done right the first time_ he thought as he lay there, limp and unfeeling. He hadn't eaten in days and his stomach rumbled with hunger pains. He didn't care. He wanted nothing from the Dursley's, wanted nothing to do with them. 

In just a couple of hours, Harry would be on his way to the Burrow. He'd join up with Ron and Hermione and they'd be on their way, together. The fact that his friends wanted to risk their lives to accompany him and not complete their final year at Hogwarts impressed Harry in ways that nothing else did. They were true friends, Ron and Hermione. He loved them so much. He loved Ginny, too, but he couldn't be with her, no matter how much he wanted to. Now that he knew what it felt like to be with somebody who could love him back, it was hard to forget and hard to live without, but he wanted what was best for Ginny and if not being with her was what she needed, he was going to give that to her. 

He'd recieved a couple of owls from her explaining how she felt and how she didn't care if she was in danger if she was with him, but he just couldn't stand putting her in that window of pain. Everybody that Harry had ever loved had come into danger at some point of time. Most of them had died. His mother, father, Sirius, Dumbledore... and Hermione and Ron had felt some sort of pain in the seven years they'd known one another. They were still alive, though. Harry loved them more than words could possibly say. 

The alarm clock next to Harry's bed flashed red in the darkness that'd swept over his bedroom. 10:30pm. In just an hour and a half he'd be out and on his way. Despite the danger that would come traveling at night, he was determined to leave Privet Drive at the first possible opportunity. Nothing could keep him there longer than need be. He hadn't really spoken to the Dursley's the entire summer and for that he was very grateful. He didn't feel like speaking to anybody. 

He was tired, but didn't want to fall asleep. There was only an hour left until he'd legally turned 17, when he'd be able to use magic outside of Hogwarts and go to the Ministry to get his Apparation license. It wasn't as though he needed it, however. Harry knew perfectly well how to Apparate and Disapparate - he'd done it just less than a month ago with Dumbledore. _Dumbledore._ The thought of his dead mentor pressed heavily against his heart and made him feel nauseous. He rolled onto his stomach and smothered his face into his pillow. It didn't take long for sleep to set in. 

The blasting of his alarm clock woke Harry up. He rolled over to slap the snooze button and noticed, with an electrified jolt streaming into the pit of his stomach, that it was midnight. He jumped out of bed, stuffing the Horcrux into his jeans pocket, grabbed his wand and his Firebolt, and magicked his trunk to float before him down the stairway of the Dursley's well-kept house. 

The Dursley's were asleep, as Harry expected them to be. He was happy. There was nothing in the world that made him want to say goodbye. Having no remorse for his actions, Harry magically bound the trunk to the bottom of his broom, threw his Invisibility Cloak over himself and his broom and kicked off into the darkness of the night. He was soaring in and through the air, speeding up, going faster and faster in hopes of reaching the Burrow before the night was over. Wind rushed through his ears and flapped his Invisibility Cloak wildly through the air. Looking around himself, he noticed two Wizards following him - Lupin and Tonks. The thought that they were there to protect him made him happy. They were good friends, and he could trust them with his life. 

Moon, stars, darkness. He felt alive, free, happy. No more Dursley's, ever. He, Harry, had kept his promise to Dumbledore and stayed with the Dursley's until the magic had passed and now he was his own free man, free to do as he chose. Voldemort was going to rue the day he'd ever heard of Harry Potter, he thought as he flew deeper and deeper into night. He could almost feel the Burrow. 

Harry felt something warm spreading up his back and turned around. The Invisibility Cloak was red and glowing. He'd been jinxed, but the cloak had deflected the magic and absorbed it in itself. Harry, surprised, looked around him. Tonks and Lupin were gone, replaced by angry looking Wizards in black. Harry's heart stopped. Death Eaters. 

But how could they have known? 

Dread spread through him. They'd been able to see his trunk from beneath the Invisibility Cloak, swaying heavily through the wind. Harry felt incredibly stupid and annoyed with himself at the same time. He drew out his wand, drew off the Invisibility Cloak and shouted out _"Stupefy!"_ The Wizard on the far right dodged his spell and shot another curse towards Harry, who swerved away just in time. 

Harry grabbed the Firebolt handle harder than before. He shot back a few more jinxes, but the Wizards behind him would not be touched. In one last, fleeting moment of thought, Harry tightened his grip and Apparated with the vision of the Burrow's Garden fixed in his mind. 

Pressure, like he was beeing squeezed through a small rubber tube encompased Harry, but he did his best to ignore it. Then, without warning, He felt his trunk slam into the ground below, felt his broom slip from beneath his legs and found himself crashing into the hard, solid ground of the Weasley's garden. 

Grabbing his things and bewitching his trunk, Harry ran to the rickety form of the Burrow and slammed on the kitchen door. He stood there for a few moments, banging hastily, until Mrs. Weasley shouted out, "Who's out there?" 

"It's me, Harry," he panted. "I was followed." 

"What was on the sweater I knitted for you last Christmas, Harry?" she asked him. It was her confirmation question to see if it was the real Harry Potter and not some imposter. 

He grit his teeth. "A Golden Snitch." 

Mrs. Weasley threw the kitchen door open and pulled Harry in with such force that he tripped and fell face-first onto the kitchen floor. She screamed out "Arthur!", and soon after, Mr. Weasley came dashing down the stairs, dressed in his nightgown and a pair of ragged carpet slippers. 

"Oh. Hello there, Harry. Didn't expect to see you this late at night!" 

"Arthur, he was followed." Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged darkly significant looks. 

Mr. Weasley grabbed Harry's arm and helped him back to his feet. Harry nodded his thanks and wrapped his arms around himself, frowning. How could he have been so stupid? Why didn't he just Apparate there, straight away, instead of taking the chance of flying? He'd been aching to have a go at Death Eaters, though. He had a strange, boiling vehemence towards Voldemort and his followers that left a strange taste in his mouth. 

Mr. Weasley was talking to him. "Did you see who it was, Harry?" 

"No. One tried to jinx me - they could see the bottom of my trunk beneath my Invisibility Cloak and shot the spell, but the cloak absorbed it. I tried to Stupefy them, but they kept dodging my attacks... so I just Apparated." 

"You don't have your Apparation license yet, though!" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "And out of thin air? Harry! Do you know how dangerous that is?" 

Mr. Weasley magicked Harry's trunk into the air and sent it up the stairway. "Molly, leave him alone. Harry, go ahead into Ron's room and get some rest. We'll talk about this more in the morning." 

The Weasley's had been expecting Harry. The camp bed was set up, once again, in Ron's attic room. Harry followed Mr. Weasley up the stairs, his Firebolt and his Invisibility Cloak clutched protectively in his arms. Mr. Weasley set the trunk down at the end of the camp bed and left Harry in the room where Ron was snoring loudly from his bed. 

Harry didn't feel like waking his best friend. He sat himself down on the camp bed, frowning, and waited for morning. 


	2. Wizard's Wedding

**A/N:** I have some personal theories about what happened in HBP that will be included in this. I'm really glad that some of you are reading it! Again, forgive the grammatical/spelling errors. I do not have a Beta Reader, nor do I have MS Word. 

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J.K. Rowling. Thanks. 

**Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor**   
"Wizard's Wedding"

Sometime during the night, Harry must have fallen asleep for strange things came to him in the form of a dream. At some point, Harry was talking to Dumbledore's ghost with his mother and father in the background, then floating Death Eater masks swarmed around him and smiled eerily at him. A voice called out to him. "Harry... Harry!" He was being shaken and everything in his little dreamworld was being torn apart. 

Harry opened his eyes to find Ron hovering over him. He jumped out of the camp bed, frightened, until he registered where he was, what had happened, and who it was that was standing next to him. Harry gave a sheepish smile to his best friend and apologized for being so jumpy. It wasn't as though Ron hadn't expected it, however. Everybody was a little jumpy after what had happened. 

"Mum said breakfast is ready. Everybody's down there but us." 

Nodding, Harry opened his trunk and grabbed a change of clothes. "Is Hermione here?" 

At this, Ron's face, neck and ears flushed. "No, not yet." He scratched the back of his neck and attempted to look nonchalant, but Harry knew better. "She's staying at home for a while... getting her parents used to her going off on her own and all, explaining what happened to them over the year. She said to send word when we were ready and all and she'll be over here in an instant." 

Harry was sort of jealous at Ron and Hermione's relationship. They were perfectly able to be together because they were facing dangers together but he could never be with Ginny. She was too young to be exposed to what he, Ron and Hermione were about to embark on. He couldn't risk her life just because he wanted to be with her. That would be selfish. Not to mention, he didn't know how to be in a relationship as he'd never really been involved in anything as rewarding and pleasurable. His stay with the Dursley's was not in any way, shape or form something of a relationship. It was simply a place to stay, a house, while Hogwarts had become his home. 

They set down the stairs and upon entering the kitchen, Harry spotted Fleur and Bill, whose face was still mangled and mutilated, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George and Ginny. His heart skipped a beat at seeing Ginny. She gave him a friendly smile, but her eyes flashed dangerously at him. He'd broken her heart... but did she know that he'd broken his as well? 

"Morning," he said. He was greeted with several sleepy replies and a weak, half-hearted smile from Ginny. "I didn't know Fred and George were here." 

Fred shrugged. "Normally we'd be at our flat above the store in Diagon Alley but we felt that it'd be best to stay at home for a while. Y'know. Help keep care of Bill and all, but Fleur's doing a fine job of that herself," he added when a reproachful look came his way from the part-veela that was soon to marry his eldest brother. 

"When's the wedding?" 

Fleur giggled. She was getting impatient, waiting for her big day to come and Harry could tell. "Eet eez in une week, 'Arry." 

It was really happening. Bill and Fleur were still going to get married, despite Bill's recent injuries and the looming threat of Death Eaters rounding on their heels. In a way, Harry envied them like he envied Ron and Hermione. It must be great, having someone - someone who'd go into battle for and with you, though he somehow doubted that Fleur Delacoure would hastily jump into battle, but after seeing her with Bill, he didn't really doubt that she would. It seemed obvious that she really loved him. The fact that she was still marrying him, despite his contorted looks proved that she wasn't as much as a prude as everyone figured. In one week Bill and Fleur would be married and while Harry knew what marriage was all about, he didn't know whether or not Wizards held traditional marriages, like the sort in Muggle movies or had some sort of magical ceremony. Harry didn't really know anything about marriages. He'd never been to a wedding, though the Dursley's had on numerous occassions. He was always left at home. 

If Harry and Ginny were a little bit older and things were different, would he ever ask her to marry him? He sat in awkward silence at the Weasley's kitchen table, staring down at his food and trying to avoid eye-contact with the girl he'd spent his last few weeks with at Hogwarts. There was a prickling on the back of his neck and he looked over to see Ron watching him. He didn't need to ask to know what he was saying. _"Don't think about it."_ Ginny was off-limits. 

The silence that'd settled into the kitchen at the Burrow was not entirely uneasy. There was certainly a reason for it; everyone had faded away into their own little thoughts about the days to come and what it was that they were going to do about it. The Weasleys, along with Fleur and Harry, ate their breakfast without saying much at all and Harry felt somewhat grateful for the silence. It helped to settle his nerves a bit and he didn't know what to say if the subject of he and Ginny came up. 

Or if he had to talk to Ginny at all, for that matter. It simply... hurt. 

Ron excused himself from the table to owl Hermione with Pigwidgeon and Ginny left the table soon after. Harry finally looked up from his plate to find six sets of eyes gazing down on him. He felt his throat go dry, and he suddenly became aware of just how stupid he must look since he hadn't bothered to comb his hair for the past few days. "Er..." he said. It was because of Ginny, he knew it. "Listen. I just don't want to get her involved in anything, y'know? I don't want to put her in any sort of danger..." 

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked. Harry felt his face grow hot. Maybe they weren't going to talk about Ginny after all, but he was sure they knew about their relationship. "No, this isn't about you and Ginny. We think... us, being the Order, that you're as ready as you'll ever be to join. Ron and Hermione too, but we want you to think about this before you do anything rash. You know what going into the Order is going to be like, Harry so we figured..." 

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley." Being in the Order was what he wanted just two years ago, but something about it seemed unappealing at the moment. Sure, being involved in the Order meant that he knew many inside things, but there was also rules, regulations... and the need for them to guarded everywhere. For what Harry planned to do, he didn't want to be followed. All he needed was Ron and Hermione at his side, his wand, and the knowledge that Dumbledore had given him before his ultimate ending. Being with the Order meant being tied down. 

He smiled rather weakly, looking at those around the table. Bill, with his hopeful, sadly disfigured face, Fleur with her beauty, Fred and George staring incredulously at their parents, Molly Weasley with her worried expression and slimming figure and Arthur Weasley with his look of hope and concern. "I'll think about it." 

Harry excused himself from the table and climbed back up the stairway to Ron's room. His friend was putting the finishing touches on his letter and was rolling it up when Harry entered the room. Ron flushed, tied the letter to Pig's tiny leg and threw the owl out of the window. 

"Was that a love letter?" Ron's face turned scarlet. "I'll take that as a yes." 

"Shut up, Harry." Ron threw himself onto his bed and folded his arms beneath his head. Harry stood next to the door, leaning on the wall. "Hermione'll be here for the wedding. She'll probably stay with her parents until then." 

"If I had parents, I'd probably spend all the time I could with them," Harry said. He picked up his Firebolt from it's resting spot on top of his trunk and slung it over the back of his shoulder. "Wanna play some Quidditch?" he asked and Ron nodded, grabbing his own broom, the one his mother bought him before fifth year for his becoming a Prefect. 

They walked into the open land at the Burrow, grabbing random objects to use as "balls" for their game. Fred and George had accompanied them when Ron asked them if they wanted to play as well. Ron had asked Harry if he minded if Ginny played, but the look on Harry's face told Ron otherwise. 

After a rousing game of Quidditch (during which Harry was smacked against the head from betwitched apples acting as Bludgers more than once), the three Weasleys and Harry hiked back into the Burrow for lunch and after that, Ron and Harry spent the afternoon and part of the evening weeding and de-gnoming the garden. Then, spent and exhausted, the two fell asleep before dinner. 

While Harry and Ron experienced somewhat lazy days during the next week at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Fleur and Bill were extremely nervous and busy, putting the finishing touches on the wedding before the big day was there. The ceremony was going to be held at the Burrow and only a couple of close family friends were going to be invited, for security reasons and because they wanted to have a small, intimate gathering instead of a large, rauceous group. 

Ginny was so on edge that Harry steered clear of her the entire week, making effort to keep out of whatever room she was in. Mrs. Weasley wasn't much better, as she tended to snap at the littlest of things. Harry found her scrubbing the wooden table in the kitchen so viciously that the one area she was working on was strangely discoloured from the rest of the table. Fleur was strictly worried about her appearance and Bill was nervous about the entire thing. Harry didn't blame him, though. His wounds were still fresh from the accident. 

Quicker than he had expected it, the Saturday of the Wedding had rolled around and Harry found himself staring down at his dress robes feeling awkward and unsure. Hermione had arrived earlier that morning - she Apparated from home and ended up in the Weasley's garden. Ron ran out to greet her and Harry found himself staring out the window, watching them locked into a welcoming embrace. He felt bad that he was spying and angry that he was getting jealous - not because he wanted Hermione, but because he wanted Ginny. Harry put on his dress robes, tried to tame his hair and failed miserably. With a sigh, he set down to the kitchen and met Mrs. Weasley sitting at the kitchen table that she'd practically ruined earlier from her over-exuberant cleaning spree. 

Tears flooded her eyes and she tabbed them gingerly with an old hankerchief. She looked up at Harry's entrance and gave a small, forced smile. 

"Are you alright, Mrs. Weasley?" He sat down at the table across from her. "What's wrong?" 

"Oh, it's nothing Harry. It's just... my Bill's getting married today. I'm so proud of him. Fleur's a wonderful girl, don't you think, Harry?" He remembered how, only last summer she was keen on getting rid of her and getting Tonks to take her place. It came as a surprise to everyone to find out that Tonks was in love with Remus Lupin, a werewolf and an ex-Hogwarts Professor that was several years older than Tonks. Age didn't really matter in the Wizarding World, though, as magical people tended to live for many, many years. Dumbledore was well over 150 years old before he passed away, and he'd been killed. He would've had several more years of life if nothing had happened. 

"You know, Harry. I'm gaining another daughter and I couldn't be happier." She stopped to dab off a couple more tears. "I heard about you and Ginny. Why haven't you been talking this week? She's liked you for a very long time and somehow I always knew that the two of you would get together. You've always been like one of the family, Harry..." 

By then, she was positively wailing. Harry had trouble understanding what she was talking about until Mrs. Weasley proclaimed, "Oh, I must look absolutely horrible." A knock sounded at the kitchen door. "And look, guests are beginning to arrive." Mrs. Weasley said a little spell that fixed her running makeup and went to the door, asking her special enterance questions and letting in Tonks, Lupin, Moody and Kingsley Shakelbolt. 

"Hullo, Harry," said Tonks. Her hair was long and blonde today, somewhat resembling Fleur's. She and Lupin were dressed in matching dress robes of forest green, and standing next to them in a dark blue was Moody, while the hulking Kingsley Shakelbolt wore a dark shade of peweter gray. They entered the kitchen and took a seat around the kitchen table, greeting Harry and asking Molly about the plans for the wedding. 

"Charlie should be here any second. He's bringing a friend from Romania with him, he's told me so much about her... and Minerva is going to perform the ceremony since... since Dumbledore's passed on..." 

Silence settled around the table to give a moment of peace for the fallen Dumbledore. It was broken by another knock on the door. Molly Weasley got up to answer the door and asked "Who is it?" 

"It's Charlie!" claimed a voice on the other end of the foor. Mrs. Weasley asked him his question and opened the door to let him in when he'd answered correctly. 

Charlie Weasley entered his old home with a girl that Harry had never seen before - an olive skinned, dark-haired woman with bright, encompassing eyes that Harry felt drawn to. Charlie introduced her as his friend, a colleague from the Dragon Fields where he worked. He didn't quite catch her name - it was something intoxicatingly foreign. 

Mrs. Weasley shook the girl's hand. Mr. Weasley called out for Mrs. Weasley, and she excused herself into the garden that Ron and Harry had spent a painstaking amount of time in, fixing it up before the wedding. Moments later, the group in the kitchen was beckoned out into the garden. 

Everyone was there. Sitting in a large clump were several people that Harry had never seen before, all with either flaming red hair or whispy, white hair that came with growing age. He didn't need to ask who they were; they were apart of the Weasley family, no doubt. Harry gave them a small smile as he sat down beside Ron and Hermione. Professor McGonagall stood before the group on a large raised platform that had not been there earlier. 

Bill stood at the bottom of the platform, dressed magnificently in silver dress robes with some sort of design etched on the fabric. He was smiling as best as he could with his deformed facial features. His mouth had been injured in the fight, and his lip had been irreversably scarred. Harry felt extreme pity for him, the man who was once the most handsome person he'd met had been reduced to a scar-covered, nervous man, waiting for his bride to walk down the garden path. Some part of Harry wanted to tell him to run the other way - maybe it was because Ginny had just sat down beside him, but Bill was still handsome. His personality had not changed. His view on life had not changed. Nothing about Bill had changed except his facial features. 

Where there would have been music in any traditional muggle wedding, there was an awe-stricken silence as Fleur set down the garden path to join her loved one at the bottom of the raised platform. Her hair was done up, topped with the Goblin-Wrought tiara that Mrs. Weasley had mentioned in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts while watching over her eldest son and tending to his injuries. She looked simply lovely and her veela attraction caught Harry off-guard. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, wishing, hoping she'd make some sort of eye-contact with him. He wanted to jump up, grab her and run off back down the garden with her. 

Beside him, Ron must have been the same way for he heard a slapping noise and Hermione's voice saying "_Really_, Ron. She's going to be your sister-in-law!" 

Fleur joined Bill on the bottom of the platform and grabbed ahold of his hands. They stared at each other as McGonagall raised her wand. 

"At times like these," she began, "it is important to have love in your life. Love is a power that knows no boundaries - it's a power that cannot be broken, but can be challenged. Overcoming such challenges makes this power stronger, something that evil cannot touch because evil does not know how to love. The presence of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is everywhere. At each and every corner, with every step we take, there is the chance that danger will suck us into it's black, inescapable vortex. But we stand here, now, celebrating love. Love is the _only_ power that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cannot conquer or control." 

Harry's mouth had gone dry. That's what Dumbledore had told him and so far, it'd been true. He looked down and saw Ginny's arm wrap around his own. Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed it. 

"William Arthur Weasley, do you vow to love Fleur Renee Delacour, through all these trials and tribulations that try us with every waking day? Will you love her unconditionally and protect her from the evil that may come?" Her wand was resting on their clasped hands, it's power seeping into them. Bill said "I will," and scarlet and pink sparks flowed through the tip of the wand, snaking around Bill and Fleur's hands, their arms, their bodies. It entwined around them. 

Professor McGonagall asked the same question to Fleur and at her answer, more and more sparks covered them. The vines of magic drew the two together, face to face. Bill pressed his lips against Fleur's, and the magic exploded into heart-shaped confetti, raining down and around them. Professor McGonagall smiled down on them. 

Harry looked over at Ginny and saw tears streaming down her face. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he gave her hand another squeeze. She looked over at him, using her free hand to smear the tears from her eyes and cheeks. Harry used his thumb to wipe away the tears that she'd missed and Ginny let out a loud sob, buring her face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as Bill and Fleur's wand tips were placed together and an odd sort of glowing surrounded them once more. 

Everyone in the crowd except for Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione raised their wands into the air to shoot off a wide variety of sparks that looked like the muggle equivalent of fireworks. Ginny sobbed even harder into Harry's shoulder, and he felt her tears dripping hot onto his shoulder through the fabric of his robes. 

"May your marriage bring you many happy times and many happy red-haired children!" 

_Yes,__What we need is to be happy, despite everything, despite the pain and burden and... but I'll never have that. Not while Voldemort is alive. I won't feel complete until he's dead and gone._

And though he felt almost whole and complete while holding Ginny against himself, he'd never felt lonlier in his life. 


	3. Mrs Weasley's New Helper

**A/N:** Welcome to the slightly fluffy Harry/Ginny chapter. 

**Harry Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor**   
"Mrs. Weasley's New Help"

Wizard's Weddings didn't happen to differ much from the traditional Muggle wedding style - except for it would be harder to break a Wizard's vow than to sign up for a Muggle divorce. From what Harry had gathered from the wedding between Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, when a marriage is being performed, their magic is intertwined and laced magic is hard to sever. While he doubted that Bill and Fleur would have any problems, he wondered what exactly happens when a Witch or Wizard's loved one dies. 

There he was again, thinking about death. The subject made him slightly uneasy, like he'd swallowed a particularly large bit of food that lodged itself in his throat and wouldn't be removed. Had Dumbledore once loved somebody enough to share his magic with? Had Sirius? Harry doubted that Sirius had even had the chance to be in love with somebody; he'd been whisked away to Azkaban so early on in his life that everything was torn away from him, but somehow his parents had managed to get married and have a child almost directly after graduating from Hogwarts. How would it feel to be lonely your entire life, Harry wondered as he held Ginny close, letting her sniffle into his robes. Pity crashed from him in waves at the thought that Sirius had never had a chance to love or be loved in return. 

Harry, however, was much the same. 

Ginny separated her face from his shoulder and made an attempt to rid her face of any evidence that she'd been crying without much success. She glanced over at Harry, caught his eye, and immediately removed her arm from his. Harry's stomach did sommersaults. It seemed to him that Ginny looked angry and upset and while he could understand why, it just hurt him to see her like that. 

"Gin -" 

"I'm not a child, Harry," she said, breaking into his sentence. She spoke quietly, just loud enough for Harry to hear her so as not to upset or ruin the celebrations that had erupted around them. "I think I know perfectly well how to take care of myself. I was part of the D.A., I held my own in the Department of Mysteries, and I kicked arse at Hogwarts -" 

Harry looked around them to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation. Ron and Hermione were no longer sitting beside him, but were dancing around with one another next to Bill and Fleur. The various guests, friends and family members alike, were eating, drinking, and dancing, paying no nevermind to Harry and Ginny, still sitting in the place where they'd watched the wedding from. 

"Do you not like me, Harry? Because I really don't understand how you can be so selfish." 

"No, it's not like that," said Harry, running his hand through his hair. His heart thudded so loudly in his chest that he was sure it was drowning out the music that played in the background. "I just... I can't put you in that sort of danger, Ginny. I can't have what happened to my parents, what happened to so many people, happen to you." 

"Stop trying to protect me, Harry, I can do that for myself!" 

"Part of loving someone is trying to protect them." 

Ginny stopped and stared. Her brown eyes glittered with tears. "I'm leaving tomorrow - Ron, Hermione and I are going to get rid of Voldemort once and for all, so there can't be an us right now, Ginny, no matter how much we want it." He kissed her forehead, stared into her eyes, and gave a pathetic attempt at a smile. His chest felt like it was going to cave in. Before him, Ginny frowned, her eyes boring into his, demanding answers. She wasn't going to take this sitting down and Harry, for once in the time he had known the Weasley's, regretted their family-inhereted stubbornness. 

At that moment, however, Nymphadora Tonks chose to come up behind the two and surprise them with a "Hey, what're you two doing, sitting here by yourselves? C'mon, Fleur's almost in tears because Bill smashed a chunk of cake in her hair on accident. Really, you have to see this..." she added gleefully as she skipped away, her hair now a bright shade of magenta. Harry watched her as she pounced Remus Lupin and climbed onto his back. 

"Tonks is right, Ginny," said Harry. "I don't think this is the time for this. It's Bill's wedding, after all..." 

As Ginny wiped away more tears from her face, Harry wondered how exactly it was that women could cry so much and how it happened that they had enough tears in them to cry. Mrs. Weasley was almost constantly in tears and now Ginny? He vaguley remembered Tonks looking as though she was going to burst into tears all of last year, but... Harry stood up, grabbed Ginny by her hand and helped bring her to her feet. He gave her a slight hug, embracing the girl he'd fallen so hard for but just couldn't bring himself to be with in such tough times. 

They broke apart and went their separate ways, Harry to Ron and Hermione, while Ginny joined random members from her family that Harry had never met. Harry watched as Ginny was grabbed and pulled into a large, rambunctious circle of family members that surrounded Bill and Fleur who were laughing and batting away unwelcome hands. Looking at Fleur, he realized that nobody from her family was present at the wedding. The nearest thing that resembled her had been Tonks with her Veela-esque hair that she'd since changed. 

"Where's Fleur's family?" he asked Ron. 

"They couldn't get into Britian - there's too many regulations and restrictions up right now, with the return of You-Know-Who and all." 

Harry thought for a second. "How could Charlie get back, then?" 

"Charlie's an English citizen," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "I'm sure he had to go through loads of security checkpoints to get back into England and was probably quizzed and watched to make sure that he wasn't going to the bad side, but it's definately easier to get back into a country if you're already a citizen of it." 

"Oh..." Fleur's family was French, but then again, so was she. "Would Fleur have gotten deported if she hadn't married Bill?" Harry had spied a few movies that Aunt Petunia had watched in the lounge that involved people marrying one another so one wasn't shipped back to their home country. 

Ron stared at Harry for a second, trying to register what he'd just asked. "What?" 

"Ron, seriously. Harry's asking if Fleur would have been sent back to France if she and Bill hadn't gotten married." 

"I don't know. I don't _think_ so, at least..." 

Harry frowned. If only the Ministry had listened to him and Dumbledore when Voldemort's return was fresh and he hadn't been able to rally up all of his Death Eaters, then things would be a little different. Sure, there would probably still be a regulation on who could and couldn't enter the country and perhaps even leave it, but if that were the case, then Fleur Delacour wouldn't have been able to come back to England in the first place to shack up with Bill Weasley. 

Plastering a large, fake smile on his face, Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the festivities. Bill and Fleur's party lasted well until the sun came down, when a great deal of the odd end Weasley family members left, and the members of the Order stayed to help clean up and keep a guard for the Weasley's. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, along with Fred, George, and Charlie magicked away the chairs, the platform, the trash littering the ground and Ginny tended to trampled plants. Charlie's foregin friend kept mostly to herself, and once or twice, Harry found himself staring up at her. 

After all, she had beautiful, enrapturing eyes. 

Too soon it was so dark that there was no point in staying outside unless they used magic to illuminate the yard, which Mr. Weasley fought furiously against when his wife demanded that they finish cleaning. He shouted that any excess magic would be a prime target for Death Eater's attentions, and would they need that? 

Bill and Fleur had left for the night, gone to the Leaky Cauldron which was undoubtedly empty, save for the old barkeeper, Tom, to celebrate their nuptuals. Charlie and his friend were also shaking up at the Leaky Cauldron and were going to leave back for Romania first thing in the morning. Mrs. Weasley was sad to see her second eldest son leave, but wished him well and gave him leftovers from the party. 

"You need feeding, dearie. Take care of yourself, please. Keep watch." 

"I know, mother, thanks. C'mon Aurelia," he said, speaking to his woman-friend and they Side-Along Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the cramped Burrow kitchen. 

"Alright then... off to bed with the lot of you," said Mrs. Weasley, shooing everyone from the kitchen table and forcing them up the stairway. "Sweet dreams." 

"Yeah, right," Harry muttered under his breath. He rarely had good dreams but they weren't as bad as before, when his and Voldemort's minds were connected. He thanked that Voldemort was practicing Occlumency, otherwise his scar would be throbbing worse than ever (he figured), and he would have the most wicked nightmares. That was something, he thought, that he could definately do without. 

Ron and Harry left the girls on the third landing and headed up to Ron's attic room, changed into their pajamas and tucked themselves into bed. The room was dark, but far from quiet. The pipes above were banging around and before long, Ron's snoring filled the air. Harry lay there, quiet and taking in his surroundings before finally falling asleep himself. 

Sunlight streaked across Harry's face and the gentle warmth roused him from his slumber. Ron's snores were few and far between, but he was still dead asleep. Harry rolled out of his camp bed, opened his trunk, and grabbed a pair of clothes, his robes, and a fresh pair of socks. He dressed himself slowly and exited Ron's room, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake his friend. 

They were leaving today. Harry's stomach was churing - he was nervous, but he'd been waiting for this moment since the school year was "officially" over. He, along with his two best friends, were going to put a stop to the menace that plagued the Wizarding Community but he couldn't deny that it was going to be a very hard, very taxing experience. Every ounce of strength, every bit of knowledge they had inside was going to be tested to the limit but he had faith in his abilities and in his friends. There was no doubt in his mind that they would not be able to accomplish what they set out to do. 

He entered the kitchen, and rich aromas of cooking bacon, frying potatoes and freshly squeezed orange juice welcomed him. Mrs. Weasley stood before the stove, watching the food prepare itself, occasionally giving something in a pan a poke or prod with her wand. Harry pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat himself at it. 

The sound of the chair moving startled Mrs. Weasley, and she turned around. "Oh, Harry, it's just you." She flashed him an apologetic smile. "How are you this morning? Breakfast is almost ready." 

She turned back to her cooking. Harry sat and watched her, wondering. She seemed far too happy to him, especially since yesterday she was in tears, upset at the thought of losing a son (if only to another woman) - shouldn't she be in tears because she might be losing her youngest son? He was soon to be off, gallavanting around, searching for a way to destroy Voldemort. It struck Harry as odd. 

...Maybe she didn't know. 

Harry's stomach clenched itself into knots and his appteite left him. Ron hadn't told his mother what it was that they were going to do, and if anything happened to Ron, it would be entirely his, Harry's, fault. 

"I'm... er, I'm going to wake up Ron," he said and slipped away from the table without a backward glance. Harry darted up the stairs and entered Ron's room with a bang of the door against his bedroom wall. Ron sat up immediately, wide awake. 

"What the hell?" he asked, setting his wand back down. He had grabbed it from beneath his pillow and held it out before him. "Harry, don't do that. You scared the hell out of me." 

"Why haven't you told your mum?" Harry demanded. He stalked across the room. "She doesn't know!" 

Ron stared at Harry. "...I can't tell her, Harry. I'm just going to leave a note for her and dad because I can't bring myself to tell her. She wouldn't let me go on my own!" he added, seeing Harry's disgusted look. "She thinks we're going back to Hogwarts next year and that you and Hermione are here for the Summer." 

Something inside Harry boiled, but he understood what Ron meant. It simply upset him that he didn't trust his mother enough to let her know that they were going to gallavant out into danger, without having completed their Hogwarts education. He turned away as Ron got dressed, waited, and went downstairs for breakfast with his friend. 

Mrs. Weasley laid out their plates, piled food onto them and yelled a few times at Fred and George for good measure. Hermione and Ginny joined them a few minutes later. They both looked tired and groggy. Ginny glared at Harry from her spot at the table, and Harry, who had very little appetite to begin with, felt completely revolted by the rest of his food and shoved it away from him. Ron gladly took his plate and ate the remander of his bacon. 

When breakfast was consumed, each of the Weasley's went their separate ways. Mrs. Weasley cleaned up the dishes and set them to work in the sink, Fred and George left for their workshop, and Ginny stomped angrily up to her room. Harry winced with each footfall, thinking it was his head that Ginny was stomping on. 

Ron, Harry, and Hermione excused themselves and headed up to Ron's bedroom. Ron quickly packed his things into his trunk, grabbed his broom and tried to shrink it so that it would fit comfortably into his trunk. Where he failed miserably, Hermione was quick to fix any damage he'd done incorrectly. He thanked her and shoved his broom into his trunk miserably, having been shown up by Hermione once more. 

He had already written a long, heavily-worded letter to his mother on a roll of parchment. Harry watched as Ron pulled it out of his sock drawer and laid it on his bed with shaking hands. Ron was nervous. Harry couldn't really blame him - after all, they were about to go and risk their necks all for the good of the entire Wizarding World. 

Hermione gave Ron a hug and laid her head on his shoulder. Seeing them reminded Harry of the day before, when Ginny sat there, crying into his shoulder. He was going to miss her. 

With ease, Hermione transfigured their trunks into minature, doll-house looking furniture trunks and scooped them into her hand. She pocketed them into her jeans and gave them a rueful smile. 

"I did it to my trunk this morning. It'll make them easier to transport." 

The three stood there, staring at one another, wondering which move to make first. It was Harry who spoke first. 

"I want to go to Godric's Hollow. It's where my parents used to live... it's where we lived." He stared at the floor. "Maybe there's something there?" 

"Yeah, you're right, mate." Hermione nodded along with Ron. 

"We should probably stop back at Grimmauld Place, just to see if there isn't anything that we could use," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Is Kreacher back at Grimmauld Place, or is he still working at Hogwarts?" 

Once again, Harry felt dumber than a box of rocks. "He's still at Hogwarts. Oiy, Kreacher!" 

With a pop, an ancient looking house-elf with a dingy old tea cozy wrapped like a loincloth around his middle, a round snout-like nose, and hairy, bat-like ears sprung out of nowhere. He looked dazed, staring at his surroundings. Kreacher the house-elf noticed the feet around him and looked up to see his master and two others standing before him. 

"Kreacher does not want to be here, he will not serve the little brats. Oh if my poor mistress could see me, filthy mudbloods, blood traitors, scum..." 

Harry felt the urge to slap the old house-elf around the head a few times but refrained himself. Instead, he smiled down at the ugly old beast and said, "You're to work for the Weasley's until I say not to, do you understand?" 

The house-elf hissed and positively howled as if it was in pain. "Oh this cannot be happening to Kreacher! What did he do to deserve to serve the filthy blood traitors? My mistress, oh no, my mistress would be so angry, so upset. Kreacher will not serve them, he would rather be with the Malfoy boy, oh yes. Kreacher wants his mistress!" 

"You listen here, Kreacher," Harry said with authority. "You will help out Mrs. Weasley with whatever it is that she asks. You cannot go to the Malfoys or Bellatrix Lestrange." The names felt like dirt in his mouth. "Start by cleaning Ron's room. I want it spotless," he added when Kreacher threw himself to the ground. 

"FILTHY -" 

But they weren't listening. Harry, Ron, and Hermione Apparated with a "pop," all headed for Number 12, Grimmauld Place. 


End file.
